


Brilliant

by iwasbotwp



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 06:00:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21931099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwasbotwp/pseuds/iwasbotwp
Summary: When the full moon falls on Christmas Eve, Remus and Hermione are forced into a cozy Christmas Day morning at home.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Remus Lupin
Comments: 24
Kudos: 108
Collections: Best of Remione





	Brilliant

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mcal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcal/gifts).



> Written for mcal for a Secret Santa exchange, and I am so excited to see what she thinks of this story! Thanks to dreamsofdramione for the fabulous beta work.

Remus woke up slowly, savouring the gentle tug of Hermione’s fingers carding through his hair, each pass lightly massaging his scalp. Enough awareness crept in that he realized they were on the sofa in the living room of their small flat; him stretched lengthwise and her sitting with his head in her lap. 

Fresh pine suffused their entire house from the tree they had so carefully selected and decorated together just over a month ago. But here, lying in front of it, the smell was nearly overwhelming. The aroma was tempered by the clean wool blanket wrapped around him, the ointment Hermione worked into his muscles each month after the full moon set, and the gentle tones of chamomile tea. There must be two cuppas on the coffee table, one for her and one waiting for him.

Not quite ready to face all of the symptoms of the morning after a full moon, he kept his eyes closed and concentrated on breathing - hoping to lessen the impending headache. Turning his head slightly, he burrowed his nose deeper into the pleasant warmth of his wife, comforted by the scent of her jumper. He suspected she had been baking biscuits during the long night, trying not to worry about him.

A pang of guilt shot through him. She had assured him repeatedly that it did not matter to her in the least to miss Christmas Eve and Day with their family and friends. But that did not stop him from feeling the need to apologise, also repeatedly.

Her ministrations paused for a moment and he heard the turning of a parchment page before the rubbing resumed. He almost chuckled, but managed to contain it to a small huff of mirth. Of course she was reading a book and drinking tea. It didn’t matter what day it was - even on Christmas morning, his witch’s routine stayed the same.

“I know you’re awake, Remus,” Hermione whispered, aware of how sensitive his hearing would be the morning after a full moon. “It’s early. The sun isn’t even up yet.”

Humming in response, he chose to still not move as he catalogued a number of aches, pains, and an itchy feeling on one ankle.

“I have a special Christmas present for you when you’re ready to get up,” she told him quietly, shifting her weight to lean forward. He realized she must have marked her page in the book she’d been reading; a muted thump meant the tome had been placed down on the table. That was followed by the clink of a spoon and the sound of her sipping her tea. She leaned back and sighed. He couldn’t quite decide if it was a tired sigh, or in contentment due to the tea.

Curiosity sparked, he opened one eye, the one that was able to look up at her. He found her smirking down at him. “Got your attention, did I?”

Unwilling to admit it, he grunted and closed his eye again. The vision of her was seared behind his lids. A messy bun sat on top of her head, honey-coloured curls highlighted by the gentle glow of firelight coming from behind the sofa. It was indeed early, as only a dusky light peeked through the window. Yet still, the mirth, tempered by love, in her eyes was easy to see. The jumper his nose was still buried in was the forest green one he adored. 

It occurred to him that he wasn’t in the usual tatty pair of sleep pants she wrangled onto his comatose form after he immediately passed out from the trauma of the transformation each month. This pair was softer, and he was wearing a shirt too.

“New pyjamas?” His voice came out as a croak, the air from his lungs barely making his raw vocal cords work.

"Yes, but that wasn't the present I meant."

A growl rumbled in his chest.

Hermione's bright laugh reverberated through him where he laid tucked into her. She gave the lightest of hits to his head. "You're incorrigible!"

Finally feeling slightly human, pun fully intended, he turned his face up and opened his eyes. Her hand shifted with his movement so she could continue massaging his scalp while he worked to focus his bleary vision. He offered her what he hoped could be classified as a smirk.

"Sit up a little and drink your tea, Remus," she prodded. "And mind your right ankle. You did something nasty to it overnight and I had to regrow a swath of skin.”

"That would explain the itchy feeling," he groaned, pulling himself upright.

"Shhhhh. Stop trying to talk until you’re hydrated again."

For a moment, he closed his eyes again, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth, collecting himself. Mercifully, Hermione leaned forward and picked up the mug to place it in his hands. The heat was welcome and he couldn't help but sigh in appreciation. 

Raising it to his lips, he nearly took a sip before he caught a whiff of something that he did not recognize. He lowered it back down, turned to look at Hermione, and quizzically raised his brow.

Her hand slid down his thigh to his knee and gave a squeeze, then rubbed up and down his leg lightly. A small smile graced her lips. He could see her excitement as she turned to fully face him, tucking one leg under her. "Give it a try. I've been working on a new potion. It should be ready to market to the public in a couple of months, but I'm pretty sure it's already perfect."

She hadn't mentioned anything about this. But she often couldn't talk about everything her boss assigned her to experiment with. First, he inspected the color and sheen of the tea. Nothing off there. Next, he took another, deeper sniff, working to catalogue what was hidden within the chamomile. There was a subtle note of— 

"Lavender?”

Her smile grew and she nodded at his correct guess. “What else can you detect?”

“Some sort of blood? Just a drop perhaps, but I smell the iron now that I concentrate on it.” There was more, but it was hard to discern it, which was unusual for him. Potions had been his best subject at Hogwarts. His sense of smell enabled him to piece together and pull apart what went into each recipe, contrary to everyone’s belief that he had been a natural at DADA. Finally, he admitted, “Something musty and then the rest is a muddle.”

“Oh.” Hermione’s face fell. “I was hoping…”

“That it wouldn’t smell like anything?” he guessed.

She nodded.

“It really doesn’t. It’s fairly brilliant that you’ve made a potion that is light in color and delicate enough to be mostly masked by the smell of chamomile,” he assured her, and was happy to see the smile return to her face. “Are you going to tell me what it is before I drink it?”

A teasing glint appeared in her eyes, and she bit her lower lip before she shook her head.

“Good thing I trust you then,” he quipped, lifting the cup back to his mouth.

The first taste was… underwhelming. It was fairly close to just the flavour of chamomile tea, which is what he had expected after barely smelling hints of the added ingredients. Hermione sat quietly watching him and waiting. He took a series of sips, letting each linger on his tongue as he mulled over the combination. When the cup was nearly empty, he was ready to admit defeat. The musty smell could be some sort of roots, he supposed, but he wasn’t willing to guess.

It was what happened next that turned out to be nearly overwhelming. His headache, which had bordered on a migraine, began to recede, and the coming sunrise streaming into their window no longer bothered his eyes. The overall lethargy he felt on this day every month lessened. He was still tired, but not in the bone-crushing sense he was used to. The nausea he always fought in order to start the rehydration process as quickly as possible disappeared completely.

Eyes widening and mouth falling open, he turned to look at Hermione in awe. “What is this?”

She took a deep breath, a look of pure joy lighting up her face. Then her posture took on a familiar bearing - the one he was used to when she was getting ready to rattle off a litany of impressive information.

“It’s my Christmas present to you!” She started to explain, then stopped, her cheeks pinking. “Well, it isn’t just for you, but I had you in mind when I presented the idea at work, and I wanted you to be the first to have it,  _ and _ I wanted it to be today. I’ve been working on it for  _ months  _ in secret. Only Malfoy knew, of course. It’s based off of a few potions you and I have tried before for helping you the morning after.”

He had tried to dissuade her notion when they first got together that a hangover potion would help him. As if he hadn’t already tried that twenty years prior. Pepper-Up only caused him to throw up. And pretty much everything else that he could usually stomache mid-moon-cycle smelled worse to him this time of the month than Wolfsbane, so he did not even want to hazard drinking it down.

“I took a few ingredients from here and there that I knew you could handle, like lavender. I then added the bare minimum of ones I thought could help you, but I knew would overwhelm you, like crocodile heart. That’s the iron you smelled - just molecules of blood left within the sliver of the muscle I added. Besides that, I also included Mandrake root, wormwood, and—”

“You are fucking brilliant!” Remus cut her off to pull her into a kiss. In-between kisses he continued his praise. “Amazing,” kiss, “insanely perfect,” kiss, “love you so much,” kiss, “I can’t even—” and then it was just kissing and moaning as they found themselves lengthwise together on the sofa. He lightly yanked on her hair, inadvertently pulling it out of the updo, to bare her neck to him. When he nipped and licked his way across her throat, Hermione mewled in response. He couldn’t help the growl that escaped him before he recaptured her lips. 

Feeling like he could do this all morning, or perhaps even more, he thought, as his hand drifted underneath her jumper, Remus was only stopped from continuing his onslaught when she grabbed his wrist and kept him from going further.

Reluctantly, he pulled back enough to find her cheeks flushed, lips swollen, and her pupils blown wide. Her hair was in complete disarray. She looked up at him and giggled.

“So it worked then?” 

“Are you kidding me? Of course it worked!” He laughed at her. He couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed, and the euphoria he had been feeling at having a morning after a transformation turn out this way started to be tempered by his swirling thoughts. “Is it just for werewolves?”

With a nod, she began to extract herself from his grip. 

“And Malfoy was on board with you designing something for such a small market?”

A smug grin spread across her face. “I negotiated some extras into my contract when it came up for renewal this year. I can’t control what he charges for it, but at least it will be out there. And I have the right to brew enough for your personal use each month without even having to pay for the ingredients.”

His wife should not have been able to astonish him anymore, but then again, he should probably just accept that she always would. He went to tug her back down, thinking perhaps he could convince her to continue their interrupted snogging session (and maybe more), but she resisted.

“What do you think about getting dressed and heading over to Harry’s house? I could owl Ginny to let her know to expect us. I know how much you love watching his kids open their gifts on Christmas Day. I think it’s still early enough to catch them.” She announced the idea nonchalantly, as if she had just come up with it, but he suspected that it may have been a part of his “present”, too.

Working to hold back the stinging in his eyes, he cleared his throat before answering. It hit him that the rawness he was expecting was nearly gone. “Brilliant,” he whispered, referring in equal parts to Hermione and her idea.


End file.
